


brother, when you grow up

by HGRising



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Brothers, M/M, actually bendercestlite, bendercest, twincest is wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HGRising/pseuds/HGRising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lars and Sven grow up but not necessarily together. Moments from the brothers' childhood to adulthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brother, when you grow up

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: In the last hours of the old year, I ended up writing this because I’m a terrible person, and my sister turned off the internet. Long story short. An anon asked me if I would ever write bendercest. Well, this is your answer, darling anon. But, this is probably more bendercestlite. I hope you get to read it. Caution: I don’t know nearly enough about them as I should and didn’t have time to fact check. Sorry y’all. Forgive me. Update: It is now two months into the new year and before finals, so of course, I’m procrastinating. Update again: It is now spring break. Fun.

**brother, when you grow up**

.

**zero**

He was born on April 27, 1988. Moments later, he became an older brother to another, Sven Bender.

He struggled with keeping his eyes open for more than a few seconds, but he was already given more responsibility than he could know.

His mother said sweetly, “Lars, this is Sven. This is your little brother.”

.

**three**

He dragged his baby brother everywhere as his partner in crime (he was a good lookout and good at acting cute and innocent with his wide, round eyes) until his mother put him in time out because Sven tattled on him. He fumed silently alone in his room, thinking about the betrayal. Sven didn’t think there was any problem with stealing a cookie or two or a dozen before dinner when they were at home. So, why was doing it at the shop any different to him?

He refused to look out the window. He could feel Sven staring in at him from outside. Probably with the same innocent eyes. They’d break his resolve to stay mad just like they would any other person.

His mother said in exasperation, “You have to set a good example for him, Lars. You’re his older brother for God’s sake.”

.

**five and four**

He told everyone at school that he was older than Sven so they had to sing to them separately, making sure that they waited a few minutes before singing to Sven, too.

Sven cried as he ate his cake.

His mother said in annoyance, “Can’t you be nicer, Lars? You’re brothers.”

**five**

He gripped his little brother’s hand, keeping his upper lip stiff. It wasn’t his fault, but he was the one being lectured as usual.

Sven had scraped his knee chasing after Lars when Lars had said he would be playing big kid games with the older kids in the neighborhood instead of him from then on.

Their mother blamed him, and his father looked at him in disappointment.

His mother said tiredly, “Let him play with your friends, Lars. When we’re gone, you’ll see that you two will only have each other.”

.

**six**

He begged his parents to let him play football, and his parents agreed on one condition. He had to take Sven with him.

His mother said in consolation, “It’ll be just until he gets bored. Who knows? He might not even like it.”

.

**eight**

He refused to keep holding Sven’s hand wherever they went. It had nothing to do with his childhood crush calling them babies when she saw their hands locked firmly together.

This break from contact went on for the longest weeks of Sven’s life, and he sulked while Lars tried to woo Vittoria back by showing her exactly how manly he was.

Then, one day, Sven fell while trying to covertly trail behind Lars on one of his dates with Vittoria, and a bike almost squished him, and they both started crying over his bloody knees and elbows, so Lars promised to never let go ever again. Ever.

His mother said soothingly, “It’s okay, Lars. You can’t protect him from everything.”

.

**nine**

He stood in shock as a girl kissed him when he scored that goal. He was more surprised by the kiss than the goal, to be frank. The parents cooed and aww’ed, but he only wiped his lips in disgust. Her lips were soft but sticky; unruly curls smacked him in his face as the wind whipped around them.

He looked towards his brother for help. As soon as he caught his eye, Sven began to approach him. There was purpose in his stride, a strange determination in his eyes.

Then, he shoved the girl away and kissed him, too, shutting up all the parents. Except for their own.

He didn’t wipe his lips that time, letting it purify him.

His mother said loudly, “That’s so cute! Do it again, Sven, honey. I want a picture for your grandparents!”

.

**twelve**

He and Sven were told that love was natural. It was okay to like girls now, want to date them, want to kiss them, want to touch them.

No one told him about how to feel about other boys.

His mother said in confusion, “Of course you can love your brother, sweetie. He’s your brother.”

.

**sixteen**

He snuck out to see his girlfriend after Sven went to sleep.

Sven didn’t like her. He said she only liked him because he could play football. He told him that he could play football, too, but he didn’t see him with any girls. They didn’t talk for the rest of the day.

When he crept back into their house in the wee hours of the early morning, he found his father waiting for him from his usual place on the large couch in their living room. He looked almost proud of him.

Lars looked away and continued on his way to his room.

There, Sven too had been waiting for him. He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t say anything either, in triumph or in defense. He hung his head in shame. He regretted everything.

His mother said in earnest, “What would everyone like to eat this morning?” She alone knew nothing of what happened as she slept.

.

**seventeen**

He was struggling more and more with himself. Long, curious moments spent in the locker room proved that he wasn’t attracted to men. However, that was only more troubling.

His mother said in resignation, “Are you _sure_ you want to live in the dorms? What about your brother?”

.

**eighteen**

He watched as Sven dated girl after girl while he strung along just one, finding it harder and harder to convince himself and her that he was respecting her and her family this way.

His mother said in wonder, “What is your brother doing? Talk some sense into him, would you, Lars? He’ll listen to you.”

.

**nineteen**

He had been drinking, but Sven hadn’t.

His mother said in disappointment as he walked out of what was once _their_ room, “Are you leaving already? He’s really missed you, Lars. Can’t you stay the entire weekend? It’s his birthday, too.”

.

**zero and zero**

He was born on April 27, 1988. Always just one step behind his beloved brother.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It’s really distracting when all I could think of while writing this is ‘When I Grow Up’ by the Pussycat Dolls and ‘Don’t You Worry Child’ by Swedish House Mafia.


End file.
